


Innocence

by Str4y



Series: Broken [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Broken Bones, Broken!Minho, Camboy!Minho, Camming, Crying, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Depression, Emotional Manipulation, Forced Orgasm, Humiliation, I'm Going to Hell, Jeongin isn’t involved in anything sexual, M/M, Manipulation, Murder, Overstimulation, Pain, Prequel, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Riding, Sequel, Smut, Stuttering, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 05:49:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18046694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Str4y/pseuds/Str4y
Summary: Jisung was always innocent. He was always loved and praised for how good he was. But deep down Jisung wasn’t good. He was awful and he knew it.Prequel/sequel to Chime.





	Innocence

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote a prequel/sequel for Chime and it turned into this disaster. 
> 
> Again, D I S C L A I M E R
> 
> \- I don’t agree with this shit at all. What happens in this fic is awful and in no way am I romanticizing or excusing it.
> 
> \- This is fiction. Pure fiction.
> 
> \- Do not read this if you are triggered by any of the tags. I think I’ve tagged everything properly so please take that in mind.

Praise was something Jisung had always enjoyed. Whether it was a good grade and a pat on the back, or being told he was a good friend, praise was precious to him. All his life he’d been praised. All his life he’d been told he was good and pure, that everything about Jisung was comparable to the sun. He’d been coddled and loved effortlessly. Jisung was a pure, innocent thing. Was. 

Maybe Jisung wasn’t as precious as he thought. Maybe Jisung was living under a pseudo. Nothing about Han Jisung was sweet. He wasn’t pure. He wasn’t innocent or comparable to the sun. Jisung was like winter. Cold, ruthless, unwelcome. Well, only to himself. His inner thoughts would send him to an early death. The sick thoughts and fantasies he had. Nothing about Jisung was good. He knew that. Once Jisung had turned seventeen he knew that all the praise and love was put into the wrong boy. He didn’t deserve any of it. Seventeen he knew. He was bad, terrible, and awful. When Jisung was seventeen he was sure he was bad. It was winter, ironically. The coldest day of the year. He didn’t know he would snap like he did, but he did. He didn’t mean to do it. He really didn’t. 

“Hey Sungie!” He was so bright. He reflected everything that Jisung was supposed to be. He was everything that Jisung wanted to be but knew he never could. This boy with the flashy smile and glimmering teeth. He was good. 

“Hi Jeongin.” Jisung slipped his fingers into the straps of his backpack, swaying nervously. It wasn’t like he knew he was going to do what he did. He didn’t know it at all. 

Jeongin was pure. He was such a good kid. Sixteen and he was just perfect. He was smart, loved volunteering, and he was even his class president. Not like it was a contest, but Jeongin looked up to Jisung, he knew that. 

“My mom's going out of town for a business trip to the states so it’ll be just me for a few days.” Jeongin offered his precious laugh, “we could hang out there. She leaves the liquor cabinet unlocked all the time.” Jeongin wasn’t all that innocent. 

Jisungs lips curled into the slightest grin, keeping his sway minimal, “That sounds great. Who’s all going?” Jeongin had lots of friends. Lots. He was popular. Jisung could only imagine Jeongin was talking about a party. 

“Everyone.”

Confirmation was nice. It was a party. Jisung wouldn’t be able to turn it down despite the absolute need to keep a good image. He couldn’t resist Jeongins offer, though. It was too tempting. Jisung was bad. Jisung never made it to the party. Mostly because the party never happened, partly because Jeongin wasn’t able to announce it. Jisung didn’t really mean to do it. Sort of. It was his fault but no one could hold him accountable. 

Jeongins house was big. Like the big that people saw in the movies. The big that would cause a gaped mouth followed by audible gasps. That big. Jisung was definitely impressed. After giving his own excited speed about how awesome Jeongins house was, they were inside. Jeongin shouldn’t have ever let Jisung enter his home. Maybe an hour or so later and both boys were drunk on various liquors. Jeongins mom must have been an alcoholic. She had so many half-empty bottles sitting in the cabinet. Tons. She wouldn’t even notice Jeongin had looted it. 

“Ah, Jisung.” Jeongin was leaned back on his palms, hair covering his eyes as he let this cute little sigh escape his lips, “this party is going to be awesome.”

Jisung scoffed, head leaned against the wall as he slipped the bottle from his lips to the floor. He was definitely drunk. They’d been drinking for awhile now, and Jisung definitely got that fuzzy feeling he’d always read about. This was his first time really drinking. It was nice. Jeongin laughed, causing Jisung to cock his head to the side in wonder, “right.” Jisung was too far gone to really comment on the party. He was excited, sure, but part of him felt the urge to party right now. For some reason his brain wanted him to do a thousand things he didn’t feel capable of doing. ”can I use your bathroom?” 

Why he wanted to use the bathroom, Jeongin would soon know. Jisung reached one of the many bathrooms in Jeongins home, fingers grazing around the medicine cabinets handle. In a way he did know what he was looking for, but suddenly his head was spinning. Why was he doing this? Jisung swallowed hard, tugging the little mirrored door open to reveal an array of pills and dental tools. Jisung tried to fight the little smirk that was rising at the corner of his mouth but he found himself losing. 

“Ah…” Jisungs digits scanned each bottle, mouthing out contents before settling on something prescribed for Jeongins mother, with the words tricyclic. Jisung didn’t know what that meant, but he knew Jeongins mother had anxiety. Anxiety pills would be the best. For what? He was still figuring that part out. Jisung empties the bottles contents into his hand before sliding them into his pocket, making sure each pill was snug enough to not slip out. He didn’t want Jeongin to see, anyways. 

“Took you long enough. Did you shit in my house, Han Jisung?” Jeongins tone was so playful. So innocent. 

“Yeah. Sorry.” Jisung lied, resting himself against the wall to the dining room, watching as his friend took another swig of alcohol. Watching the way Jeongins throat bobbed did something to him. Not in a pleasant way. He wanted him to cease movements. Soon. After some time Jeongin was tiring, hiccups leaving the younger boys lips. He was close to passing out. Soon his friend would pass out right on the floor. But Jisung didn’t want that. So he snatched the bottle from Jeongin and pushed him to the ground, only stirring tiny giggles from the boys throat now. 

“Jisung you came here for this? I didn’t expect that.” He was so drunk. So out of it. So beyond done that Jisung wanted to strangle him. But no, he couldn’t do that. Then they’d catch him. 

Jisung tilted his head, smirk making itself present now that he had full control. “Not quite.” He shoved his fingers into his pocket, digging around until his grasp filled with as many pills as he could manage, “we should try something.” Jeongin just laughed again, hand shooting over his now tightly shut eyes. Good. Jisung grabbed Jeongins chin, adjusting it slightly before shoving the handful of pills into the boys mouth. Suddenly Jeongin wasn’t enjoying anything anymore. He panicked, hand flailing up and knocking Jisungs hand away — pills smashing to the ground causing Jisung to hiss in reply. 

“What are you—!?” Jeongin was cut off by Jisungs hand over his mouth, forcing the pills he’d shoved there to stay. Jeongins face had flushed, eyes wide. Maybe he should have waited for Jeongin to pass out. It would have made this easier. 

Jisung kept his hand there, using his other to pinch his nose shut. Either Jeongin would force the pills down or die. He wasn’t giving him much option. Satisfaction rose through Jisungs body as he watched the boy force the pills down. He didn’t mind the little choking sounds. They were in an awful way pleasant to him. After a few minutes Jisung forced his fingers into Jeongins mouth, wiggling them around excitedly which only made the smaller boy gag again. But Jisung didn’t care. Once Jisung was sure Jeongins mouth was clear of the pills he released his fingers over the boys nose and from inside his mouth, tears sliding their way down his cheeks now that Jisungs hand wasn’t in the way. Jeongins eyes were tired, unforgiving as they stared into Jisungs. In a way it seemed as if Jeongin was pleading. But Jisung didn’t care. 

Waiting was aggravating. As Jisung sat over the whining mess beneath him he was growing so irritable. Every noise Jeongin made under him made him want to smack the boy. But he couldn’t. Jisung didn’t want there to be any signs this wasn’t a suicide. Thankfully Jeongins eyes started to flutter and roll back. Good. Jisung lifted his hand from the boys mouth, Jeongin slurring incoherently. Jisung wanted to tease the younger and ask what he was trying to say but he opted to let Jeongin continue. Jisung couldn’t care less about what Jeongin was trying to say to him. It didn’t matter. “How much longer, Jeongin?” Jisung sigh, finally pulling himself off of the boy to grab the sole bottle he’d been drinking from. He would take it with him just in case. The pill bottle he’d just smear with Jeongins fingerprints instead. 

Jeongin was shuddering at the floor, still trying to babble out his words though they only came out in tiny whimpers. Jisung was glad. He wouldn’t be awake much longer. Jisung stood over the boy, watching as his eyes darted around. They seemed to refuse settling on anything. It was interesting to watch. Jisung had a lot of work to do. And not much time. 

“Thanks for the alcohol. I’ll see you tonight for the party.” Jisungs words didn’t seem to reach the boy at the ground. He just rambled on and on, convulsing at the floor. He was so stupid he hadn’t even gone for his phone. Jisung thought that was both pathetic and hilarious. Jeongin was great. 

Jeongin was. 

Jisung had won. He wasn’t sure what he’d did but he was glad he had. A week later and there were nothing but gossip about how Jeongin had committed suicide. His mother had come home to find him on the ground with her anxiety medication in hand. Thankfully, no one ever questioned it. They let Jeongin go easily. No investigation. Jisung must’ve gotten lucky. Jeongin really had been depressed. He mustn’t have seen the boys own antidepressants in the cabinet. Luckily, nobody questioned it. Jeongin was let go quickly. Jisung reigned supreme in innocence. 

Years went by, Jisung continued to be the star student. He was complimented, praised. Jisung was everything that others wanted of him. He was perfect. College began and Jisung felt a little less perfect. Again, his perfection and innocence were put to the test. Everyone at the college were the same. They were all so flawed in their own magical ways. It gave Jisung the edge. He was again, sought after. He was loved by everyone. He was the star. But there was one problem. Bang Chan. Bang Chan seemed normal at first. He was a popular senior boy that ran lots of volunteer organizations. He was ready to graduate and preparing for graduate school. Bang Chan didn’t seem that threatening at first, but once Jisung really got to see who Chan was, he become obsessed. 

Parties. Again, Jisung wasn’t a fan. He started going a year after Jeongins death. They were boring, but definitely showed people’s true colors. Colors like Bang Chan’s. If Jisung had to assign Chan a color it would be yellow. Bright, and wholesome. The color of the sun. That was Bang Chan. But Jisung was also yellow. He couldn’t share his color.

What upset Jisung the most of when he thought he’d finally beaten Chan. At the party he watched as Chan escorted a very drunk, and much younger girl up the stairs. The way Chan had his hands steady at her waist were very telling. Jisung couldn’t help but follow them up after some time. Maybe Chan’s innocence was a façade, too. No. Jisung hated this. He hated Chan. He hated that he’d followed Chan up only to see him tucking the girl in and on the phone with presumably one of the girls friends. He was a good person. A good guy. Jisung hated him. Of everyone else in the school, Chan was giving him the most problems. He had to do something. 

Once Chan exited the room he bumped right into Jisung. But Jisung was prepared. He flew forewords, face at Chan’s warm chest as he let out breathy sighs. Chan seemed alarmed. He didn’t seem to know who Jisung was. 

“Are you okay?”

Jisung smirked against the man's chest before rising himself up to look at him, eyes half-lidded, “I think someone slipped me something.” A lie. A lie that would fuel Bang Chan’s call to action. Maybe he’d get him alone. 

The elder helped Jisung into the bathroom, laying him against the cool surface of the tub. Ideally, Jisung would’ve preferred the bedroom. But this would do. “Do you have your phone on you? I’ll call someone to pick you up.” Chan kept his hands at a distance before gently patting at Jisungs hoodie pockets. He was good. He hated how good Chan was. Give Jisung the opportunity and he’d smash Chan’s pretty face into the tiles.

Jisung shook his head though, he made sure he’d left his phone at home. He wasn’t sure why but this was a perfect reason for that. Chan just sighed before taking out his own phone, “is there anyone I can call?”

Again, Jisung shook his head. Chan was so close he could smell him. He smelled really good. Jisung wasn’t sure what cologne he used but it was definitely sweet. Enticing. “No…just stay with me?” Jisung made his voice sound as small as possible. 

Chan ran his fingers through the messy black curls at his head before giving Jisung a nod, settling himself down by the tub, head resting against the sink. “That’s fine. I’m not going anywhere. What’s your name?”

“Jisung.”

Chan seemed to smile at that. Was his name cute or something? “I’m Chan. I think I’ve seen you around before. You’re a freshman, right?” Chan was trying to keep Jisung awake. That was nice. But Jisung wasn’t really drugged. Not even buzzed. It was an act. 

“Yep.” Jisung whispered, adjusting himself until his cheek was rest against the side of the tub, eyes glossy as they gazed to Chan, “and you’re that cute volunteer senior?”

“I am.” Chan laughed, eyes darting from Jisung. Chan’s face was flushed. And it wasn’t from the alcohol. This was interesting. And good. 

“Chan, I’m really tired.” Jisung lied, eyes fluttering again. 

“Don’t fall asleep.” Chan frowned, moving his hands to wrap around Jisungs face. They were so warm against his skin. “Stay awake for me, I don’t want to call an ambulance…you’re still underage, right?”

He wasn’t. He joined the university a little late. But Chan didn’t know that. Jisung just whines gainer his hand, nuzzling against fondly. “I am.” He lied before fluttering his eyes again, “Don’t call. My mom…she—“

Chan’s grip was rougher, Jisung could feel a gentle tap to his cheek. In a messed up way Jisung wanted him to smack him harder. “Stay up for me. It’ll be alright.”

Jisung nodded then, big brown eyes displayed to properly look at Chan. Maybe Chan wasn’t all that innocent either. The way Chan was biting his lip looking at Jisung, it stirred him. Chan thought Jisung was a minor, yet he was looking at him so intensely. 

Yeah, Chan wasn’t that great. 

Jisung wasn’t sure what he’d done to make Chan press their lips together. Why Chan was holding Jisungs face so tightly in his hands. Jisung would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. The way Chan forced his tongue into Jisungs mouth and how Chan was moaning against his lips. It made Jisungs head spin. 

“I’m so sorry.” Chan whimpered before sliding into the tub over Jisung, rubbing his knee against the younger boys crotch. Yes, the innocence and purity that Jisung originally saw in Chan was slipping. Chan was actually awful.

Jisung just let his eyes flutter again as Chan unbuckled Jisungs pants. Jisung wasn’t at all uncomfortable. He’d had sex. Plenty times. Usually he was in charge but this was too sexy to stop. Chan really though Jisung was gone enough to fuck. He wondered how often Chan did this. Maybe it was only with boys? Maybe that’s why he didn’t fuck that girl earlier. Chan tugged Jisungs pants down to his knees, offering another moan as he admired Jisungs dick that was pulsing against his underwear. The elder really was about to fuck him. Jisung wanted to smirk but he couldn’t break character. 

“You’re so pretty…I’ve seen how you look at me all over campus.” Chan whispered, hands trailing along Jisungs thighs, “you’ve been wanting this, huh?”

Jisung just let his head roll to the side, peeking down as Chan’s hands made their way to his underwear, dragging them down his hips to free his erection. Jisung was working so hard to keep himself from exposing that he wasn’t actually drunk. But it was hard. 

“You’re even all wet for me.” Chan’s words were dirty. Jisung really liked them. 

It only took a few seconds for Chan to slide his own pants down, his own dick painfully hard. Jisung couldn’t help but stare. It had been awhile since he took a dick, and Chan’s wasn’t exactly small. He’d have to muster up every acting skill he had for this one. 

Or maybe not. Chan moaned as his dick sprung free before straddling himself over Jisung. Oh? Chan leaned in, pressing little kisses along Jisungs neck before moaning against it. Jisung wanted to see more clearly but he could feel that one of Chan’s hands had reached behind him. Was he? Jisung couldn’t hide the smile as Chan moaned into his neck. He was seriously fingering himself. Jisung was worried he’d have to conceal his moans but now — now he’d have to try to fight thrusting into Chan mercilessly. 

“Jisung, I can't wait for you to fill me.” The elder shuddered, moving so that their dicks were pressed together, rutting himself against Jisung painfully. 

Jisung really wanted to take control. He really wanted to just slam into this man. But he couldn’t. Not yet. He’d give Chan some time to fill with bliss before coming clean. He didn’t want Chan to leave when he finished. He had to make him stay. But for now, he’d play Chan’s game. Chan started to suck at Jisungs throat, causing little slips of moans to escape his lips. It felt great. Chan’s lips were magic on his tan skin. He needed the elder to hurry, though. Jisung was growing impatient and he’d even started to grind his hips up against Chan’s. 

“You’re so eager.” Chan laughed, pulling off of Jisungs throat to dive back into his lips. Chan was immediately biting his lower lip, dick still pressing uncomfortably against Jisungs. “So good.”

Chan wasn’t good, though. Not as a person that is. As a sexual encounter he was divine. Jisungs eyes rolled back as Chan kept at his lip. It stung how hard he was tugging but Jisung could bare it. He had to. He wanted Chan to sit on his dick. It seemed as if Chan could read Jisungs mind. The elder pulled off of Jisungs lips before pressing his hands over Jisungs chest, inching himself down against Jisungs tip. He wasn’t sure why Chan hadn’t prepped himself more, but fuck did it feel good. 

“Oh my —“ Chan couldn’t continue, once he lowered himself completely down into Jisungs length he was a moaning mess. Jisung wanted to thrust up but he knew he’d need more time. He needed to act as delirious as possible. Chan took a moment to catch his breath before slowly rolling his hips, hands gripping hard at Jisungs shirt. 

It was getting awfully hot with Chan over him like this. And uncomfortable. The angle was only making his dick throb more. And he wanted so badly to wrap his arms around Chan’s hips and fuck into him. But he couldn’t. He needed to stay still for awhile. Chan shuddered, moving his hands underneath of Jisungs shirt as he rolled his hips a little more. It was still aggravatingly slow, but he could see that Chan was just trying to reach his sweet spot before really going in. 

He must have hit it sooner than Jisung thought. Suddenly Jisungs head was smacking the back of the tub as Chan bounced and rolled himself into Jisungs hips. It was annoying how he had to keep himself from cursing at Chan to stop, and annoying how Chan was moaning over him like that. Jisung wanted to make Chan scream. But the movements were stirring Jisungs stomach. He didn’t want to come so early but he worried he might bust at any moment. He wouldn’t be able to conceal his awareness of Chan got him to come. 

“Stop—“ Jisung whimpered then, the pressure building in his stomach. He didn’t want Chan to stop, but ‘stop’ was something someone drugged would whine, right? 

Chan just laughed above him, fastening his pace over Jisung. The last straw were the lines of Chan’s come coating his black shirt. Jisung could even feel some of Chan’s seed landing at his face and he couldn’t continue like this. He needed to take control. Within seconds Jisung had Chan at his back against the tub, the elder seeming too shocked to retort as Jisung thrust roughly into the elder, only dragging out all sorts of pained noises that filled his ears. Chan felt so good like this. The way Chan’s muscles tightened around Jisungs dick only made him move faster, gripping a hand through those messy curls. This was so good. He felt so good. 

“W-What the fuck!?” Chan’s mouth was gaped in shock, but for some reason he wasn’t doing anything to stop Jisung. He was just watching wordlessly as Jisung rammed into his sweet spot, over and over. 

Jisung felt the coils in his stomach, causing him to fasten his pace even more before burying his face down into Chan’s shoulder, shuddering as he came. Jisung couldn’t see his face, but he knew Chan must have been in love. The way Chan shook beneath him and had gripped against Jisungs waist, nails ripping into the skin, showed it all. Chan has loved every second of that. Fast but fulfilling. 

“Oh fuck—“ Jisung moaned out, pulling himself from Chan. It was hard to steady himself like this, but after a few seconds of shivering through his high he was upright, hair covering over his eyes as he watched Chan closely. 

Chan was a mess. He had his eyes shut tightly now, mouth releasing these beautiful breaths that were only going to make Jisung hard again. He looked so fucked out. Jisung couldn’t resist tugging Chan’s head up with his fingers, Joy filling him as Chan’s dark eyes looked at him with fear. 

“Don’t tell anyone, please?” Chan whimpered, trying to pull himself up from the slippery tub. He looked so pathetic, face twisted in fear.

Jisung just smirked, forcing Chan’s head back as he let his lips graze the man's throat. He tasted so good. His sweat tasted amazing. And Chan’s moans were music. Chan really was perfect aside from thinking he was raping Jisung. Other than his obvious date rape tendencies he was lovely. Jisung was fucked up enough to think passed what Chan thought he’d done. ”I won’t. Just promise you’ll do that again whenever I ask you to.”

They didn’t talk about the incident after that. Chan for some reason agreed to what Jisung offered. They’d end up fucking in their dorms, storage closets, community showers. Everywhere. Each time Jisung would act like he was defenseless while Chan rode him. There was obviously something fucked up about how much Chan enjoyed using Jisung while he pretended to be drugged out, but jisung ignored it. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done some fucked up things in the past. 

Once graduation rolled in Chan was suddenly more distant. He didn’t come by Jisungs dorm as often. And he didn’t seem to enjoy being around Jisung as much anymore. Which hurt, in a way. It meant Jisung didn’t have control anymore. And he didn’t like that. And eventually Chan cut him off completely. His Chan. His nasty little date-rape fuck-buddy didn’t want to be with him. He was pissed. If Chan didn’t want him then he’d ruin him. Right before graduation. 

“What are you talking about—“ Chan was shaking. He looked as if he’d pass out any minute. 

Anyone would pass out at what Jisung had just showed Chan. A video. A video of him fucking Jisung who was murmuring for Chan to stop. But of course he cut the video right before Jisung ended up taking control back. The video was enough to stress Chan out to the point he shook and had sweat beading down his forehead. 

“I’ve already turned the video in. I’m sure you only have a few hours before the police are at your door. Might wanna kill yourself before they show, fucking rapist.” Jisung was lying. He hadn’t turned the tape over to the university. Nor the police. He was just making shit up to hurt Chan. It’s what he deserved for leaving him so suddenly. 

Chan just shook his head in disbelief. His pathetic ass was crying in front of Jisung, pleading for him to take it back and tell them the truth. Jisung had never seen Chan look so vulnerable. It was a good look on him. Maybe Jisung went too far. But again, he just didn’t care. 

Not even hours later Jisung received a message from one of Chan’s friends. Chan has jumped off one of the campus buildings. Jisung should have started crying. He should have felt remorse and regret. But instead he just laughed. It was funny to him. Funny how much power he had over this fucking boy. It was exciting to him how he’d been able to completely wreck Chan. He’d miss fucking him, but that was it. Jisung was winter. He didn’t give a shit how icy things got. 

And he didn’t give a shit once summer came around and he met Hyunjin. Sure, he was cute and all. But Jisung didn’t honestly care about Hyunjin. Hyunjin was clingy, which annoyed Jisung. But he was a great fuck. He would let Jisung do all kinds of things with him. He’d even let Jisung tear his mouth once. Hyunjin was a gem. Definitely. But he wasn’t innocent. Jisung liked innocence. He was drawn to it. How he landed Hyunjin was appalling. 

He met Hyunjin in a café. Cliché, sure. But so was Hyunjin. A cliché. A hopeless romantic who enjoyed overpriced coffee. Jisung wasn’t even sure why he entered the café. He didn’t like caffeine. At all. It made him jittery and he only liked to be jittery during sex. Jisung hadn’t even approached Hyunjin. That was all him. At first Hyunjin seemed sweet, innocent. But quickly their conversation shifted from talking about their different colleges to what it would be like to be tied down and fucked. A complete stranger was sitting there talking about sex. It was odd as fuck. But jisung missed sex. Since Chan died he hadn’t really found anyone interesting to fuck. But maybe Hyunjin would be okay for a while. 

He was. For a lot longer than Jisung thought. He ended up keeping Hyunjin around for a long time. Long enough to near graduation and move into a nice enough house with some questionable friends. Long enough to deem Hyunjin fit enough to be his boyfriend. But for how long, Jisung wasn’t sure. He didn’t know when he’d tire of him. He wasn’t making it easy. They fought a lot, which Jisung enjoyed. And they were rough with each other. A plus. Jisung wasn’t sure where he’d find someone as fucked up at Hyunjin. When he did, he’d leave him. Maybe. 

“What’s your most disturbing secret?” Jisung wasn’t sure why of all things Hyunjin could ask he asked this. Jisung couldn’t really tell him. Not at all. ”mine isn’t necessarily about me. But a friend.” It was like Hyunjin was dying to tell him. 

“I can’t tell you. It’s pretty bad.” Jisung scoffed, nuzzling his face into Hyunjins shoulder as they lay in his bed, “it wouldn’t be a secret anymore.”

Hyunjin whined but let it go, pressing little kisses to Jisungs hair, “can I show you something really hot? I think they should still be on.” Be on?

Jisung sat up as Hyunjin rushed across the room to grab his laptop, settling it in front of Jisung who just raised a brow to him questionably. “So don’t be mad. I’ve been watching this camboy.” Jisung felt a little twitch of jealousy. He wasn’t mad. But he was annoyed that Hyunjin was watching over guys online. Cam Boys were a lot more intimate than porn. 

But once Hyunjin loaded the page it made sense. This camboy;he was fucking beautiful. No lips or nose visible. But damn. Those eyes were so full of lust. And his chest was soaked in sweat. Jisung would be lying if he denied wanting to run his tongue up that boys stomach. This guy was obviously far from innocent yet held this strange purity. His moans dripped honey and the way he was fingering himself with his head thrown back was enough. Jisung was intrigued. 

“I know him.” Hyunjin spoke then, shuddering as if he was turned on by what he was watching, “he’s a friend of mine. He’s a psych major. So we share tons of classes.”

Jisung wasn’t sure how to take that. Hyunjin knew the boy he was gushing about. It pissed him off. He was pissed. How dare he talk about this boy in this way. Jisung was his boyfriend. He knew that, right? ”so you get off to someone you know? Why would you think I’d be okay with this! If you want him so badly go fuck him yourself!?” 

Hyunjin just laughed. Like this was a joke. Jisung was ready to punch him. As hard as he could. In the face. In his pretty face. “Jisung, I want to fuck you while we watch him.” We? Jisungs skin boiled. What was Hyunjin doing? 

Hyunjin dragged his fingertips along Jisungs arms, gazing to the screen, “I think it would be hot. And new. Besides Minho is practically a virgin.” Jisung interest peaked. “He’s only fucked a girl in high school. Besides he’s got this whole stuttering thing. He’s really awkward.” Hyunjin seemed to be doing all he could to calm Jisungs nerves. 

“Why would you watch him?” Jisung glanced to the screen as Minho came, chest rising and falling quickly. He was finished. There wasn’t much else for them to watch. “Plus, he’s done.”

Hyunjin snickered, pulling Jisungs face to his, letting his tongue glide along his jaw before sliding it into Jisungs mouth. Was Hyunjin really trying to piss him off? 

“Hyunjin.”

“Shut up. I have archives of all his videos. We’re going to watch every single one until they’re done. When he’s done, we’re done.” Hyunjin whispered, moving his mouth to leave tiny bites along Jisungs neck and shoulder. 

“How many videos?” Jisung just growled under his breath, eyeing Hyunjin with a fury that usually made the other back off. But Hyunjin didn’t seem to care about that. 

“That was episode twenty-nine.” 

Too many episodes later and Jisung was an overstimulated disaster. He felt free. For some reason that camboy had kept him going the whole time. Hyunjin seemed more stable than he was. They must have been fucking for hours. 

“How was that?” Hyunjin laughed through a pained breath, cupping Jisungs tired face, “he really knows how to keep the audience turned on.” 

“Please tell me you’re done.” Jisung snorted, gazing into Hyunjins eyes that were still fogged. Even he’d cried during their sex. He had gotten so overstimulated with Hyunjin constantly sucking and fucking his cock dry that he couldn’t help it.

“I am.” Hyunjin carded his digits through Jisungs hair, humming softly, “can you tell me one of your secrets now? No matter how bad.”

Jisung tensed. He was too sore to fight Hyunjin. And he was stuck in this never-ending high that was making everything seem less awful. “Can I tell you just one?” Hyunjins expression fell but he nodded, fingertips causing Jisungs skin to form goosebumps. 

So he took a deep breath. Jisung had never told anyone. About anything he’d done. He always ended up looking innocent. “I kind of drove a guy from my school to kill himself.” For some reason Hyunjin didn’t freak out. He just nodded, expectant to hear further. “At a party he thought I was drugged and took me to the bathroom.” Hyunjins movements stopped. He had worry over his face now. Like Jisung was a victim. “He rode me thinking I was out of it.” Hyunjin seemed crushed. Maybe Jisung should change his story. “I threatened to tell the police the next day. It was close to graduation for him so he panicked and jumped off a building.” Something deep down told Jisung to tell him the actual truth. But what if it was too much?

“That’s awful. But wait, you pretended? Why did you let him do that?” Jisung bit his own lip, Hyunjin scanning for answers. 

“I enjoyed it. You know I’m weird.” Jisung laughed it off, finally pulling himself up from the bed, eyes meeting the boy who was paused waving goodbye to his fans. “Really weird…”

Hyunjin arched his brow, glancing towards the screen, “what are you thinking about?”

“How much I want to fuck your little camboys mouth, I bet it’s really pretty.” Jisung spat, “and how much I want to fill his little virgin hole.”

Hyunjin couldn’t fight his smug laugh as he closed the laptop, giving Jisung a kiss at his shoulder, “so you want me to try and get him to fuck us? He would never. He’s got this cute crush on me but he’s frigid, not to mention a practical virgin. He doesn’t even do parties.”

“So make him. If he’s as shy as you say he is all you need to do is convince him.” Jisung smirked, pressing his lips to Hyunjins hair, “don’t even tell him what we want to do. It’ll be a surprise. Like…we could do what he’s asked for in his videos.”

Hyunjin laughed, slapping Jisungs chest that was littered in bruises, “Yeah right. He would just stutter and cry till we let him go.”

“We don’t have to let him go.”

“Ah, Jisung I’m not a rapist.” Hyunjin laughed nervously, scratching at his neck. Dammit. Maybe Hyunjin was innocent. It ticked Jisung off. 

“You wouldn’t be. He wants this shit. It would be fun.”

It was. It was fun for Jisung only. Once they actually did the awful deed, and had left Minho to get home on his own, Jisung just got a mouthful from the taller boy. Hyunjin was clearly upset after what had happened despite seeming to enjoy it all. It was annoying. 

“We fucking tore him. We shouldn’t have done that. He’s really hurt, Jisung!” Hyunjin was crying. For some reason Hyunjin was feeling guilty. After all the shit he’d done to Minho now he felt guilty about it? “You broke his fingers!? Did you see his ankles? They were all cut up and bloody because of us!”

“He won’t say anything.” Jisung snorted, pulling his wet hair off of his forehead. He was thankful Hyunjin let him shower before throwing a fucking fit. “He’s a little stuttery bitch. He’s going to go home and keep his mouth shut.”

“You ruined his career by showing his face. And oh my god you said his name!?” Hyunjin was so aggravating. “He’s going to tell someone. We really hurt him. We messed up.”

“You feel bad?” Hyunjin looked puzzled, hurt. “You did worse than I did. He actually trusted you. Loved you. The look in his eyes when you fucked him? He loved it.” Jisung was ticked. It was supposed to be fun. But Hyunjins guilt was ruining that for him. “He loved it. Give him a few days.”

“You don’t know Minho. He’s not okay. We destroyed him.” Hyunjins voice was shaky. As if he’d breakdown and cry. 

But jisung didn’t care. Again, he really didn’t give a shit. Breaking Minho was fun. Minho, who was innocent through the end, was broken. And Jisung would thrive off of that for years. Hell, he’d even continue watching Minhos shows, but most likely just repeats. Minho would probably never do shows again after what he’d done. Maybe one day he’d go to him and fuck him again. Without Hyunjin. Of course Jisung was sure Minho would just kill himself after what they’d done. Good. Another one to the list. He didn’t care. 

But Minho didn’t kill himself. Minho also didn’t tell anyone. Minho didn’t talk to anyone at all. He was so broken that he couldn’t even leave his little apartment. And wow, three days after the incident Minho was doing cam shows like nothing had happened. It was intriguing to say the least. 

“He’s not okay.” Hyunjins voice had gotten worse over the few days. It took Hyunjin those whole three days to finally talk to Jisung again. Oddly Hyunjin hadn’t left him. He stayed by his side. Hyunjin was just as awful. Definitely. 

“He’s fine. Look at him jerking himself like normal.” Jisung huffed, watching as the boy on screen shuddered through his orgasm. 

Hyunjin shook his head, face in his hands as if he was miserable, “he’s not okay. His mom called me yesterday.” Jisung tensed. He’d forgotten their faces and names were mentioned. “She asked what the fuck we’d done. That she would have called the police if Minho hadn’t texted her that it was just a show. He told her it was a show, Jisung. Fuck, he told his fans that it was a special treat and not to worry.”

“So we’re in the clear?” 

“He hasn’t responded to her since. She’s worried and mad. She said what people messaged her in no way sounded fake, and it took everything in me to say it was Minhos idea. We’re lucky she hasn’t watched the video.” Hyunjin looked so hurt. He didn’t think that Hyunjin and Minho were this close. 

“Drop it. She’ll get over it. It was just a show.” Jisung rolled his eyes, falling back onto the bed once Minho had waved off his fans. 

Hyunjin didn’t drop it. A week later Jisung was ready to smash Hyunjins face into the wall. After everything had cooled down Hyunjin decided to burn everything up again. 

“You did what?” Jisung was trying to sound calm. To sound like he didn’t want to choke Hyunjin to death. 

“I saw him. He’s not okay, Jisung. He’s so bad. He hadn’t gotten his hand checked and he was so scared of me. He looked like he’d die if I didn’t leave him alone.” Hyunjin was sobbing. It only made Jisung want to hurt him more. 

“Why would you go see him! I told you he’s fine. He’s living on. He is fine. Stop stressing the kid out.” Minho was older than them, but he acted like a fucking baby. “You’re only going to make things worse for us. Move the fuck on.”

“I can’t. Jisung I—“ jisung couldn’t believe what he was going to witness his boyfriend say. In a way he should have expected it. But it didn’t make sense to him. And it stung and hurt. Hyunjin was so good at burning through Jisungs ice cold heart. “I love him.”

It didn’t take Jisung long. Not at all. This was probably the most satisfying thing he’d ever done. Jisung was sure he’d never been harder. Nor had he ever felt so much excitement in his bones. ”fuck—“ He tensed, looking down at the mess beneath him. The mess that used to have the most excited grin. The mess who used to have a pulse.

“Hyunjin, you’re supposed to love me.” He laughed, releasing his hands from around Hyunjins throat. Wow. He couldn’t hide this one. Not this time. Hyunjin has red marks all around his neck. They’d bruise. Definitely. Jisung couldn’t hide this. “You stupid fucking toy—“ 

Jisung shakily steadied himself off the ground, breaths shallow as he scanned Hyunjins unmoving frame. He really did that. He really killed him. There wasn’t a lot of satisfaction in it this time. Hyunjin was innocent in a way, but he was as guilty as Jisung. And as awful. Killing Hyunjin felt so dull compared to Jeongin and Chan. This felt—lame. 

Hiding Hyunjins body was even harder. He had a family. And friends. And a school. They’d come looking, right? Maybe not. After a month no one had reported him missing. Maybe nobody gave a shit about Hyunjin. Good. It made Jisungs life easier. At least for awhile. People would notice eventually. And they’d probably find the body in the woods someday. But for now, Jisung was in the safe zone. 

——

“Any suggestions?” His voice. There was something so soothing about his voice. Jisung would love to hear it screaming his name again. He’d love to fuck that mouth he longed to see. He was so attractive and whiny and beautiful. And pure. He remained pure through everything that Jisung and Hyunjin had done to him. It intrigued him. 

As Minho ran his fingertips along the black lace at his leg Jisung couldn’t help but let out a steady moan, hand inside his pants as his other typed away at the keyboard. He attached a nice tip of five hundred coins that seemed to stir Minhos attention quickly. 

“Can you stare at the camera for a few minutes?” Jisung whimpered aloud as his fingers messily typed the message, there were even a few hearts added in. Just to sweeten things up. “I can.” Minho seemed nervous but he pulled the camera up, his beautiful eyes staring into the camera. Every blink caused Jisung to moan out. He hated that this doe-eyed man had this affect on him. He hated that after the impurities Jisung inflicted he was still so fucking pure. He was what Jisung should have been. Sweet and soft and beautiful. He missed being those things. It really hurt to be replaced. It hurt. Without Hyunjin to distract him, Jisung was back to his old terrible thoughts. He wanted that dominance over innocence again, but Minho wasn’t going to let him have that.

Jisung came quicker than he wanted, coating his screen with his seed that definitely belong on Minhos face. He wanted to fuck him again so badly. This time he wouldn’t have Hyunjin to stop him. And he could even break the rest of his hand. God, Jisung wanted to hurt him so good. He needed it. 

He had to do it. 

But Jisung was left dry. After a few more days Minho disappeared. Once Minho wasn’t going online anymore, Jisung couldn’t take it. He needed to see him but Minho was making it harder. Why did he stop going online? Jisung was so fucking over it. He had Minhos address from Hyunjin, and he had ways to get to him. But if Minho saw Jisung he’d never come out again. And Jisung didn’t want to break into Minhos apartment unless he had to. So he waited. Every day he would hang around the outside of Minhos apartment, waiting. He needed to catch Minho on his way back from the supermarket. It was the only way he’d get to him. 

The day never came. After another week of stalking the area he came up short handed. There was no Minho. Jisung had an awful feeling in his gut. What if Minho was dead? He couldn’t be gone. Minho had to stay alive. So Jisung panicked. And by panicked, he made his way into the apartment building and easily broke into Minhos apartment. It was night time. And thankfully the lock was easy enough for Jisung to pry apart with a little bobby-pin magic. Easy. It was all too fucking easy. 

Minhos home was small but functional. The aroma of honey filled Jisungs nose. That and a weird mix of must. But the honey was overpowering. Minho mustn’t have been taking care of himself, nor his home. Now that Jisung thought of it, Minhos house was a wreck. There were school papers thrown all around. Minhos clothes, both for school and play laying all over the floor. Jisung was tempted to clean it, but he didn’t have time. Jisungs gaze settled on the steaming noodles left at the counter. Minho was here.

Jisung had to be careful. He sucked in a breath as he reached the single shut door. It had to be Minhos room. Jisung just hoped Minho was asleep. He really didn’t want Minho to scream at him. Not when his neighbors were right next door. He took a deep breath before wrapping his fingers around the knob, turning it ever so slightly. Thankfully Minhos door was quiet. Jisung slipped into the room quickly, locking the door as he pressed it shut. It was dark. Which meant Minho was asleep, or dead. Jisung couldn’t shake the feeling Minho could be dead. He approached the bed slowly, gazing over the small lump. Minho. It must’ve been Minho. Jisung could keep his breath for hitching as he got close enough, peering over to see Minhos beautiful face pressed against the pillow. He seemed peaceful. But not in a dead way, which was good. His breath was actually really shaky. And jisung could have sworn his face was fuller the last time he’d seen him. Now it seemed as if Minhos face was sunken in. He looked really beautifully unhealthy. 

“Jesus—“ Jisung laughed under his breath, moving his digits to card into Minhos hair. It was soft and slightly damp. Minho was thankfully keeping up with showering. That was good. Jisung really didn’t want to fuck anyone filthy. 

Minho stirred slightly as Jisung rubbed through his hair, making sure his nails dug carefully against the elders scalp. He remembered how it seemed to calm Minho down a month ago when they fucked him. It had the same affect even now. Minho would probably vomit again knowing that jisung was touching him.

Jisung eventually settled himself besides Minho, hand still dug through those brown locks of soft hair. As much as he wanted to wake minho, he wasn’t sure what to do after. He wanted to fuck him, definitely. But part of him wanted to just break Minho even more. Maybe he could break him down to nothing.

Food. Maybe Jisung should feed him. Minhos frame was so small. He looked absolutely tiny. Jisung just hoped those pretty thighs were still there. But he doubted it. He knew Minho was just a stick under these blankets. Jisung let his fingers slide from Minhos scalp as he pulled himself up. He didn’t get far before hearing a stir at the bed behind him. Shit. Jisung froze as a thud filled the room. It wasn’t Minho, but a bottle. An empty bottle of some alcohol Jisung couldn’t recognize. Jisung turned, the boy in the bed turned now and facing Jisung. His eyes were barely opened but Jisung knew he’d woken up. 

“Hello.” Minhos voice was slurred and weak. He must’ve been drinking himself to sleep. There was absolutely no way he was sober. Jisungs mouth curled into a smile as he kneeled himself down by Minho, watching him fondly. ”are you my fan?”

Jisung scoffed, resting his chin in his palm as he scanned a Minhos tired expression. He was so cute. And despite how sunken his face looked he still had an absolutely beautiful structure. “Yeah. I’m a big fan.” 

Minho shut his eyes again, giving the cutest little nod as he rest himself back against his pillow, hugging his blankets around him as humid he was freezing, “why are you in my house?”

“I wanted to see you.” Jisung got bold, letting his fingers reach back into Minhos hair. The elder shuddered at the touch but seemed to gladly take the advance, even briefly nuzzling against Jisungs arm. “How’ve you been doing? Why’d you stop your shows?”

Jisung figured the answer was simple. Judging by Minhos appearance he couldn’t bother moving to do them. It was obvious he was starving himself. Obvious that Minho had finally given up on himself. “It hurts.” He answered, trying his best to peek one of those pretty brown orbs at Jisung, “people keep asking me to do things I don’t want to.”

“Ah, so it’s not because you’re too exhausted?” Minho shook his head, whining into Jisungs hand now as if he was getting a random headache, “Minho, how much have you had to drink? Do you know who I am, really?”

Minho paused, both eyes fluttering opened to look at Jisung. It was too difficult to read. Minho was impossibly drunk right now. But Jisung still shivered at the answer. “Han Jisung.”

“So you remember me?” Jisung swallowed hard, scratching at Minhos scalp. He didn’t want Minho to scream or sober up. He couldn’t handle that. 

“Yes. I see you every time I close my eyes.” Minho was still slurring through sentences. But Jisung could make every word out as clear as day. “You hurt my hand.” 

Jisung blinked before reaching under the covers to pull the splinted hand out. It looked awful. There was bruising and Jisung was sure he’d never be able to use them again if he left them untreated like this. But that was fine. Jisung wanted to break his thumb and his pinky to match. Maybe his wrist. Why not the whole arm? He wanted to break all of him. 

“Ah, you don’t seem too scared.” Jisung cooed, lacing his fingers with Minhos mangled one, the warm sensation of having a living being touch him again filling his heart. It was nice. 

Minho shook his head, trying his best to sit up to only give up, nuzzling into his pillow, “I am but—“ he sniffled, indicating he’d start crying at any moment, “I can forgive you. I think.”

“Why?” Jisung didn’t mean to ask aloud. Suddenly his chest was hot, he felt so hot. His usual cold demeanor was replaced with something else. Minho couldn’t have forgiven him. No way. He’d raped Minho, broken his hand and nearly destroyed his life. How could Minho ever forgive Jisung? 

“Hyunjin—he loves you.” There was a strain of sadness lingering with Minhos words. “I saw him. I saw him at the store.” Minhos words strung nicely, which only caused panic to rise in Jisungs stomach. Minho whined into the pillow , tightening his thumb around Jisungs hand, “I didn't want to see him.”

Jisung swallowed, shaking off his fear to look Minho in the eye, moving his hand from Minhos hair to settle under minhos jaw, raising his face to look at him, “Hyunjin doesn’t love me.”

Minho smiled, or at least it looked like a smile. Jisung couldn’t tell. “He said he did.” Was Minho playing games with him? Jisung tightened his grip at the boys jaw, “He was telling me how sorry he was...how bad he felt.” Jisungs chest was so fucking hot. He may have even started sweating. “I can forgive him, you too. If Hyunjin loves you, you can’t be that bad.” 

Minho was so drunk he couldn’t even see through the bullshit of it all. Had he no clue why Jisung was here? It wasn’t to apologize, it was to fuck him again. To ruin him again. Jisung clenched his jaw as Minhos eyes fluttered closed again, head lolling to the side again tiredly. But Jisung had enough. He dragged Minho upright, the elder whimpering at the sudden movement. Jisung was over this. He didn’t have time to feel bothered by Minhos stupid voice.

“What are you doing?” Minho asked, eyes half-lidded as he was settled into a sitting position. Minho felt so light, like air. Jisung growled, tangling his fingers back into Minhos hair roughly, which only made Minho gasp, but Jisung didn’t give a shit.

“Want to know why I came here?” Jisung was tiring of the innocent little glint in Minhos expression. He was drunk, Jisung knew that, but this was too fucking much. Minhos words stung. Hyunjin was dead. And Jisung was bad. He needed Minho to realize that. “Answer me.” He demanded, tugging Minhos head back some, another whine leaving his lips.

“No,” Minhos eyes were clouding over with tears, Good. Minhos tears were really pretty, Jisung remembered them well.

“I came to finish this.” Minho seemed puzzled before letting out a stressed whimper as Jisungs fingers still wrapped around his hand squeezed tightly, “I came to finish you.” He hissed, throwing Minho back against the bed. Minho was like a ragdoll, he went down without any struggle. 

Minho stared up at Jisung wordlessly. He was too drunk. He needed Minho to sober up. Otherwise this wouldn’t be any fun at all. Jisung cursed under his breath before sliding his fingers underneath of Minhos pink sweatshirt, fingertips grazing over his stomach and ribs. Ribs. Minho needed to eat or he’d die soon. Jisung wondered how long it had been. 

“Jisung—“ Minho was writhing underneath, bringing his free arm up to cover his face, arching himself as Jisungs fingers reached his nipples. Maybe drunk Minho wouldn’t be so bad. 

“What is it?” Jisung asked, pinching the buds at Minhos chest as he pulled one of Minhos legs around his waist. His legs had thinned out some, too. It was a shame. Minhos thighs were probably Jisungs favorite thing besides those lips. Minhos lips were his favorite, he thought. 

“Stop.” Those words were magic. Jisung wanted to hear Minho screaming for him to stop. He wanted to break Minho till he was nothing left. He had to rid him of that innocence. It wasn’t fair. Minho was greedy. A plus were Minhos tears sliding down his face. Minho was too drunk to push Jisung away, but he seemed able to grasp his situation. And it wasn't good. Jisung hissed as he began rubbing his bulge along Minhos shorts, feeling the drunk boys length. He wasn’t hard at all, which was aggravating. But he’d manage. 

“Jisung—please stop.” Minho stirred underneath of him more, even turning his face to the side. Minhos chest was rising quickly and his breaths were so jagged. Suddenly he was enjoying himself, though Jisung could only blame the alcohol. “Please.”

Minhos drunken pleas did nothing but encourage Jisung to rub himself against Minho harder, moving his hand from Minhos chest to grab his hip, thrusting himself against the others clothed member. “Shut up.” Jisung laughed, rolling his hips comfortably. He could feel Minho growing against him. Minho didn’t say much else, he even bucked his hips against Jisungs. It was as if Minho really didn’t understand what was happening to him. It turned Jisung on even more. Minho had no fucking clue what Jisung was going to do to him. Or what he’d put him through. Jisung kept rolling his hips before slipping his fingers passed Minhos waistband, only causing the elder to shudder and let out an uncomfortable moan. 

“Stop fighting it.” Jisung hissed, letting both hands tug Minhos shorts down along with a pair of black briefs that in a way shocked Jisung. He expected a cute pair of underwear like Minho had always worn. But this was fine. It didn’t matter. Either way he was fucking Minho. With or without his cute ass panties. 

Minho shivered as his dick sprung free. Jisung could feel Minhos hands trying to shove him off, but Minho was too weak to really do much at all. Jisung scoffed at the petty attempt. “You’re so fucking adorable.” Minho just whined underneath of him, trying to wiggle free. But Jisung wasn’t having any of that shit. He tugged the boys shorts off fully, dragging Minho down the bed to better wrap his legs over Jisungs hips before forcing his fingers into Minhos mouth. His pretty, fuckable mouth. Minho whined again, trying to get Jisungs fingers out with his tongue. “If you don’t suck them I’ll cut your fucking tongue out.”

Jisung was so glad Minho was weak. Maybe he was more broken than Jisung thought. Minho sobbed against his fingers, tongue wrapping around them as if they were the only things keeping him alive. In a way, that was true. He really might have cut out the man’s tongue if he hadn’t listened to him. 

“You’re such a good baby.” Jisung laughed, pressing his fingers deeper into Minhos mouth, free hand wrapping around Minhos half-hard length. The pet name didn’t seem to do much to Minho. He was still crying and sucking on Jisungs fingers. He was actually pretty awful at it, but Jisung figured it was from his being so drunk. He knew Minho was better than this. Right now he was just sloppy. 

After letting Minho suck on his fingers a little longer he pulled them out, a soft moan escaping Minhos lips; it have been from Jisungs hand moving along his dick. Jisung sigh pleasantly as he leaned down, Minho cowering back once Jisungs tongue ran along the side of his face. Minho really did just get out of the shower. He tasted like mint and something else. It was delicious. Jisung let out a happy sigh, letting his hand pump Minhos reluctant length. Minho really wasn't into this. At all. 

“What’s wrong, don’t like it?” Jisung teased, sliding his fingers down to press against Minhos hole. The man underneath dug his head back into the sheets, whining something about it hurting. But Jisung still did not give a fuck. He shoved a finger in, wiggling it around only to stir uncomfortable moans and sighs from Minho. But they were strained. Jisung could tell Minho still didn’t want this. Even though he was drunk and easier to control. It was a slight turn off. 

“Stop—“ Minhos breath hitched, bucking his hips into Jisungs hand that was steady at his length, “please please—“ he kept whining. Over and over. It was honestly starting to get on jisungs nerves. He needed Minho to stop complaining and just let Jisung do what he needed to. Within seconds Minhos hand swatted at Jisung then, causing him to rip his fingers from Minhos hole in irritation.

He pulled himself up, shoving Minho against the wall as he pulled the man’s broken hand behind his back. Minho just whined more, trying to yank himself free, but it was no use. Jisung was strong where Minho was a weak little bitch. Jisung scanned the room quickly before leaning over, pulling a little trophy down from Minhos desk. This would work fine. Jisung held Minhos hand in place as he tugged the stupid splints off, revealing Minhos jacked fingers. 

“N-no. Don’t.” Minho panicked, trying to yank himself away with again, no use. 

“Shut up.” Jisung snorted before holding Minhos arm down, knee pressed into the boys back to hold him in place before the sound of Minhos strained cry rang through the air. Jisung had nearly forgotten that they weren’t at the party, but a quiet apartment building. Jisung hissed, placing the trophy between his legs before grabbing Minhos discarded underwear from the floor and shoving them down the man’s throat. Thankfully Minho was crying too hard to pull away. He must’ve been in so much pain. 

“Just one more.” Jisung growled then, picking the trophy back up now that Minho was a little quieter before smashing it down again, the sound of something cracking causing even Jisung to shudder in disgust. He had to have broken Minhos wrist this time. His aim was definitely off in the darkness of Minhos bedroom. 

Jisung absolutely loved Minhos tiny scream that was muffled by the cloth in his mouth. And Minhos tears. To die for. Jisung tossed the trophy to the ground, admiring Minhos cute busted hand. All but his thumb were bent unnaturally and the impact of the trophy had definitely caused some extra damage. Maybe even nerve damage. Jisung laughed, lifting the hand by his pinky which only caused Minho to scream again. It must’ve really hurt. Good. 

Jisung pulled Minho back towards him, shoving his face down against the sheets. He was shaking, and sobbing violently. A little too much for Jisungs comfort. But he wasn’t about to let this go. He wanted to fuck him. Now. So he shoved his fingers into his own mouth this time, the taste of alcohol from Minhos own mouth lingering on each fingertip. It was kind of disgusting. But jisung had worse. 

“St—“ Minho could only sob out muffled sounds. Not that Jisung would bother trying to decipher them. He figured Minho just wanted him to stop and let him go. But Jisung wouldn’t do that. More like, he couldn’t. 

Jisung whistled, popping the fingers out of his mouth before inserting his index to the boys hole again, Minho squirming underneath him uncomfortably. “Seriously, Minho. You’re so loud.”

Minho buried his face into the sheets as Jisung added another of his digits, wiggling as he had before he decided to break Minhos hand. Minho was really warm. Maybe too warm. Maybe he had a fever. Maybe he really would die soon. Jisung pulled his fingers out, unzipping his jeans to press his painful erection to Minhos hole, smearing his precum along the elders rim. Minho just sobbed hysterically, ceasing fleeing to opt to cowering in fear. 

“You’re drunk. It’ll be fine.” Jisung snorted, grabbing a fistful of Minhos hair as he pressed himself in. It was obviously tight. Maybe Jisung should have done more. Maybe he should have made it somewhat pleasant. But his mind wasn’t thinking clearly. He just wanted to fuck Minho raw. 

Minho shivered with each thrust, little muffled whimpers leaving his mouth with each buck of Jisungs hips. Jisung couldn’t care less. The warmth surrounding him was amazing. Minho felt amazing. Jisung should have felt awful. But he didn’t. He was awful. 

“Ahhh, Minho. I won’t tear you this time, I promise.” Minho just continued to shudder underneath as Jisung quickened his pace, moving his hand to trail down his back. It was so smooth. Jisung hadn’t noticed the small moles over his milky skin the last time they had Minho flipped like this. He was really beautiful. Jisungs jealousy was just growing with every observation. 

Minho was writhing uncomfortably, and Jisung could see he was getting overwhelmed. Jisung must have been thrusting into him way too hard. He really didn’t want to tear Minho again. As fun as it would be, he didn’t want to. So after a few more deep movements he slowed himself down, letting both hands slide to grip Minhos hips. 

“I’m not gonna last much longer.” Jisung scoffed, leaning down to graze his lips along the back of Minhos neck. Jisung could feel the mint body wash and sweat at his tongue. It was oddly pleasant. He hated how good minho tasted. He hated how good minho was. He hated his innocence. He hated him. 

He was obsessed with him. 

Jisung was right. He didn’t last much longer. After a few more deep thrusts and he was spilling inside of Minho. Minhos moan sounded so pretty muffled like that. Jisung huffed, pressing himself as deep as he could into the elder before collapsing over him. 

He heard Minho whimpering under him, but it wasn’t like Jisung gave a shit what was happening to him. He didn’t care how Minho felt at all. He did however want to hear him. Jisung sat himself up, admiring the white trail he’d left leaking from Minhos ass before flipping him onto his back. 

Jisung wanted to fuck him again. He really did. But later. For now Jisung was tucking his softening length back into his pants, letting out a blissful sigh. Jisungs eyes scanned Minho then, admiring every inch of him. Minhos hoodie was coated in his own come. It was nice to see that Minho ended up releasing at some point. “So you liked it?” Jisung reached his fingers around the underwear that he’d shoved into Minhos mouth, pulling a face at the wetness of them before tossing them to the ground. 

He really, so very badly would fuck Minho again. The way his eyes were puffy and watering was really doing it for Jisung. Plus the way his mouth was parted. He was so fucking attractive. Minho knew that, didn’t he? That he was so pretty he fucked with Jisungs mind. 

“My hand—“ Minho was stuttering again, only causing Jisung to panic internally at the thought of Minho coming to. 

“Shut up.” Jisung grabbed Minhos jaw roughly, staring into those pretty brown pools that glistened with tears, “I’ll take care of it.”

In a way Jisung wanted to smash the trophy across Minhos pretty nose. He wanted to smash in those lost eyes. He wanted to rip his mouth apart. But he wouldn’t. Minho was so beautiful he couldn’t bare injuring his face. Instead he hauled Minho up by the injured wrist, causing a shriek of pain to escape his lips. Jisung raised a hand, only causing Minho to bring his stable hand shakily to cover his face, “what did I just say?” He tightened his grip on Minhos wrist, feeling the broken bone underneath. He really didn’t think he’d done this much damage in two hits. Maybe Minhos cries were justified. 

“I’m sorry.” Minho sobbed, keeping his hand shielding his face. Jisung was surprised Minho hadn’t shoved him away. Or tried to scream. Maybe he was just too drunk. Jisung rolled his eyes before pulling himself off the bed, dragging Minho by his wrist to the bedroom door, unlocking and pulling Minho behind. Minho dragged behind, but every tug Minho gave caused Jisung to pull harder. It probably wasn’t good considering how bad Minhos hand was, but Jisung wasn’t in the state to care. He quickly found the bathroom door, entering and shoving Minho against the tiles before locking the door behind him. 

“Get in.” Jisung pointed to the shower, eyes finally really looking at Minho. He looked awful. Though his feathery hair settled perfectly around his face he wore an expression of absolute fear. And he had drool at the corner of his mouth that Jisung wanted to rid of immediately. Gazing down he could see how bad Minho was shaking against the cool tiles, knees nearly buckling. His hand. Jisung took one glance and mustered everything he could not to puke. It looked really bad. And bloody. Jisung hadn’t noticed the blood. Not at all. 

“Why?” Minho whined, hand held over his face as he inched himself towards the shower. Jisung really hadn’t realized Minho was limping. It made sense. He wasn’t easy on him at all. 

Jisung let out an annoyed hiss before forcing Minho back against the wall, the elder just shrinking against him, “I won’t ask again.”

Minhos obedience, though a little rocky, was a huge turn on. After a weak nod Minho was in the shower, good hand gripping the bottom of the pink hoodie that was coated in his own seed. He seemed tired again, too. Probably from being so wasted. Jisung was sure he’d collapse at any moment. 

“Move your hand.” Jisung sighed, snapping his fingers at Minhos eye-level before tugging the pink hoodie up, guiding Minhos arms so he could take the clothing off easier. Minho, of course, was literally no help. He kept moving his arms down and stumbling. Jisung really wanted to strangle him for being so difficult. 

Finally Jisung was able to get the hoodie off, admiring the faint little marks at Minhos hip before turning the water on behind him, the cool water forcing Minho to shiver and whimper again. He looked so small like this despite being a little taller than Jisung. It was cute. Luckily Minho didn’t seem to move at all. Maybe he was too afraid. Good. But It only took a few minutes for Minho to pass out and collapse. Jisung was lucky to catch him before the man could smack his head against the glass shower door. The last thing Jisung wanted was for Minho to die in his bathroom like that. Jisung would’ve been infuriated. 

“Jesus Christ—“ Jisung growled, sitting Minho upright against the shower tiles, hand at his cheek. He was still warm despite the coolness of the water. And his face seemed to be too red for comfort. “You’re the fucking worst.” Jisung warmed the water, yanking the nozzle from its hook to spray the water directly over Minho. 

Washing a passed out Minho was a lot easier than Jisung thought. He was easy to move around and he didn’t complain. Minho did stir when Jisung took Minhos hand into his own, rubbing over the little cuts from the corner of the trophy he’d hit him with earlier. It wasn’t that bad, at least visually. Jisung was sure Minhos hand was damaged too badly beneath the skin, but he couldn’t worry about that. Jisung shut the water off, grabbing a towel from the rack above the sink to drape around Minho, wrapping it around him tight. Minho was so pretty to look at. Jisung could stare for ages. He really wanted to, anyways. Instead he picked Minho up bridal-style, unlocking the bathroom door before returning to the dimmer room. 

The light was bright once Jisung found the switch, hissing before settling Minho down onto his messy bed. Jisung honestly didn’t care to change the sheets. He was just going to defile him again later anyways. Jisung took a moment, sitting at the bed beside him to brush his digits into Minhos hair again. Maybe it was just a subconscious need of his. Jisung really liked the way Minho relaxed under him as soon as his fingers were massaging his scalp. 

“You’re so stupid pretty.” Jisung whispered, adjusting himself until his back hit the wall, placing the males head into his lap to continue digging his fingers along Minhos wet head of hair. “Should I bandage your hand?” Minho wouldn’t reply. He was passed out. Jisung knew that. “Fine, I won’t.”

Jisung lost track of time. He didn’t mean to, but he did. Soon his head was rest back against the wall, and his eyes were fighting to stay open. What time was it? It felt like he’d been waiting on Minho for a whole day. He knew Minho was alive. He could feel his breaths. But Jisung was growing impatient. And tired. Really fucking tired. 

Minho must have been a fucking wizard. Every time Jisung needed him to get up he listened. Jisung froze as Minhos eyes fluttered, a painful whine escaping the man’s lips as he turned himself to the side. He seemed so pitiful and minuscule. Jisung stayed silent as Minho pulled his broken hand up to his chest, letting out a strained sob before his eyes finally opened

Shit. 

Minho grimaced at the sight of his hand before gazing up, mouth opening to scream. At least that’s what Jisung thought. Jisung quickly slapped his hand over Minhos mouth, fingers at his hair keeping steady movement. 

“Don’t.” Jisung growled, Minhos eyes watering again. Still, he seemed way too weak to push Jisung away. Good. Minho tensed, uninjured hand slipping around Jisungs at his mouth. He was trembling so badly. There was no way he didn’t recall what had happened just hours ago. “Don’t scream, Minho. I’ll break your other hand if you scream.”

He didn’t scream. Nor did he attempt to pull away. Minho just lay there, that panicked cute look in his eyes causing Jisung to lick his lips. He was so fucking pretty. After a few seconds of watching Minhos eyes flooding with tears he slid his hand away, the exposed lips quivering. 

“Why?” Minho whispered, seeming to struggle with his breathing. His voice was hoarse again. He must’ve strained it while bitching from the hand injury. “Why did y-you do this?”

Jisung was annoyed with how strained Minhos voice was. And how badly he was stuttering through his sentence. He kept his digits through the man’s hair, humming to himself. “I wanted to.”

Minho shut his eyes, biting his own lip hard. He was shivering so much. Jisung was worried he’d fucking die. “W-Why couldn’t you le-leave me alone?” Minho sobbed, finally pulling himself away and whimpering as he managed to get upright. 

Jisung let his fingers fall from Minhos hair, releasing a laugh as Minho dragged himself towards the other side of the bed, tugging the blanket from below them to wrap around himself. Did Minho really think that mattered? If jisung wanted to he could just yank it away and smash his face into the wall. Minho must have known. 

“Ever since I saw you on Hyunjins laptop—“ he paused, crawling over the bed towards Minho. “I just had to have you.” Jisung reached his fingers into Minhos hair again, the elder just staring at him with these adorable puppy eyes, “what did you expect? You stopped doing your shows. I needed to come see that pretty mouth—“ Jisung slipped his fingers down to Minhos lips, grazing the plump bottom lip before finally being shoved backwards. Jisung nearly fell off the bed before grabbing hold of Minhos hair again, shoving his head back against the wall. “Minho, don’t fucking test me.”

“Please stop—“ Minho whimpered, trying to push Jisung off only to get a knee to the stomach as Jisung adjusted himself. “Get away from me!”

“Seriously, Minho.” Jisung increased the pressure into Minhos stomach, sliding his hand around the mans delicate throat. 

Minho gasped, moving his hand to press against Jisungs chest, “Just kill me.” 

Jisung tilted his head before breaking out into this manic laughter. Laughter he wasn’t sure he possessed. It was hilarious to him. Was Minho really asking Jisung to kill him? Seriously? This sweet, stupid boy. Jisung might have been in love with him. Or at least, his purity. He was definitely not going to kill such an innocent being. The others he’d gotten rid of were all impure somehow, but Minho...he was special. 

“Baby, I’m not doing that.” Minho whined as Jisung leaned forwards, licking a stripe up his still-wet jaw. “I just want you. Whenever I want.” He pressed, scooting himself closer, slipping his legs to either side of Minhos, straddling him comfortably. 

Minho shook his head, seeming to use as much force as he could to shove Jisung away. Useless. Minho was so useless. “Kill me first. Please stop.”

Jisung rolled his eyes, digging both hands into Minhos hair instead. “I don’t fuck corpses.” Jisung actually didn’t hate the thought. If he got bored enough he might dig Hyunjin up. Hyunjin had a perfect mouth. But Minho. He wanted him alive. He didn’t want Minho to decompose. His face had to stay pure. Like the rest of him. “Hey baby,” He cooed, licking another slow stripe up Minhos cheeks this time before staring him dead in the eyes that had flown open again, “were you telling the truth earlier?”

Minho winced, “earlier?”

He must have been stupid. Jisung wanted to slam him into the fucking wall. “When you said you’d forgive me, idiot.”

“I don’t know anymore.” It wasn’t a no. Minho must have meant it. He could forgive Jisung. That was so wild to Jisung. How could he forgive him after what he’d just done hours ago? “I don’t know.”

“Aw, baby.” Jisung dug his fingers through Minhos pretty scalp, leaning in to press his lips to the corners of Minhos quivering lips, “think about this. If I kill you—you’ll be dead.” Minhos breath hitched. He must have thought Jisung was the idiot. “You’ll hurt your mommy.” Minho just whined then, hand pressing against Jisung lowering as if he was actually going to give up. “And Hyunjin. Hyunjin really loves you, you know?” 

“What?” Jisung pulled back from Minhos lips, looking at the man before him. Minho seemed—tense. He seemed more anxious at what Jisung had said. Wow. Minho still actually loved Hyunjin. In a fucked up way maybe he had to. Minho couldn’t let Hyunjin go. Just as Jisung wouldn’t let Minho go. 

“He told me. We both love you. So many people love you, Minho.” Jisung whispered, leaning back in to take Minhos lips which felt a lot more relaxed. Maybe. Maybe Minho wasn’t as pu—no. He was pure. He was pure. 

Minho didn’t retort at all. He even let his lips part a little. That could have just been Jisungs imagination though. Minho wouldn’t kiss him back. Minho wasn’t a masochist. Or maybe he was. Minho was kissing him. Minhos hand was at Jisungs cheek. He was actually fucking kissing him. Jisung bucked his hips against the blanket that was covering Minho, letting his eyes flutter shut as his tongue forced its way passed Minhos pretty lips. 

And Minho fucking let him. Minho was letting him do whatever he wanted. Was—Jisung pulled away momentarily, moving a hand to grab Minhos chin, thumb grazing along that savory bottom lip. “You’re loved. You know that? This is all because I love you.” Jisung was talking out of his ass. But that glisten in Minhos eyes. He found it. It wasn’t just him that loved the praise and attention. Minho did too. Minho ate it up. 

Jisung didn’t have to do shit. Minho leaned in on his own, lips gliding along Jisungs perfectly. This was hilarious. Jisung wanted to laugh. He wanted to laugh so fucking much. But he had to hold the facade again. Minho was actually enjoying this. He was enjoying the fucking attention. Did Minho forget what Jisung had done to him?

“Say it again.” Minhos breaths were heavy and he even let the blanket slip from around him. Minho was like a different person. Suddenly Jisung didn’t really know who this was. Was he still drunk? 

“You’re serious?” Jisung didn’t mean to let that slip. He didn’t want Minho to start panicking. Jisung was actually enjoying Minhos light dominance. 

Minho pulled away, eyes half-lidded as he scanned Jisungs face, “I don’t know.” 

What the fuck? What was Jisung supposed to do with this newfound bullshit. Jisung shook his head, looking at Minho clearly. “Do you forgive me? Remember what I said, I love you.” If Minho said no, he’d break his other hand. If he said yes, he’d fuck him again. Either way Minho would probably start crying again. 

Minhos eyes panned up to Jisungs, this look of lust filling the once terrified galaxies. Maybe Minho was already broken. Minhos change in demeanor was so intriguing and so sudden. There was no way this was normal. “Yeah.”

Maybe Minho was lying. Maybe he just didn’t want Jisung to shatter his hand again. Minho had to have been fully aware of what he was saying. Was he just trying to get Jisung to treat him nicely or something? It was unfortunately working. 

Jisung pulled Minho back, laying him into his back as he tugged the blanket and towel away. Minho didn’t seem uncomfortable with it this time. He seemed perfectly fine all of a sudden. Jisung wasn’t sure he liked that. But fuck it. He’d take it for now. He settled himself over Minhos chest, unzipping his pants again. Maybe that would stir Minho. But It only stirred Jisung. As soon as he tugged his zipper down, Minhos mouth widened, tongue sliding out as if he was begging. Just as he had the first time Jisung did this to him. He really wanted it. “Don’t bite me.” He choked out as he inched himself closer, pulling his hardening length out with a hiss before setting the head against Minhos eager tongue. 

“I love you, Minho.” Jisung hummed as Minho bobbed his mouth comfortably around Jisungs length. For some reason he was actually complicit in this. Enjoying it. Jisung needed to look into those eyes again. Maybe Minho really was broken. Either that or he wasn’t pure anymore. Jisung couldn’t bare that. 

Minho quickened his pace, the slurping sounds causing Jisung to shudder. Jisung didn’t like losing control, but for Minho he’d allow it. Just for awhile. He’d give Minho a break before slamming into that breathtaking throat of his. 

“Minho you’re doing so good.” Jisung couldn’t help but thrust his hips a little, eyes rolling back at the little sensations as Minho hummed against his length. He didn’t want to give Minho more time. He just wanted to destroy him. 

He didn’t warn Minho. He just gripped his hair in both hands before scooting himself as close up Minhos chest as he could before slamming into the boys throat. He could hear Minho gagging underneath. But Jisung didn’t care. He wanted his own high. Fuck Minhos. Jisung let out a much louder moan than he wanted, rolling his hips at a pace he knew Minho couldn’t handle. The sounds of the man choking below was only making his mind fuzzier. He hated that Minho was having this affect on him. It wasn’t fair. 

“Minho, swallow it.“ Jisung was going to hate himself till he died. The fact he was coming so quickly would destroy his ego. He could have lasted longer. Why was Minho so special? As he came he kept himself in Minhos mouth, bucking his hips to force Minho to take everything he gave. 

Jisung kept himself inside of Minhos mouth a moment longer before sliding himself out, letting out this embarrassing moan as he watched Minhos pretty fucking tongue slip from his mouth. He was fucking panting like a bitch in heat. God, he really hated Minho and his perfect face. He didn’t come here to fall in love. He came here to ki—he came here to destroy Minho. That’s why he was here. 

“Jisung, say it again.”

Minho was a broken record. Maybe just broken. Jisung examined his ribs once he slid himself off the bed. He was starving. Literally starving. Minho mustn’t have really meant anything he was saying. He was just a lost puppy. Jisung smirked, getting an idea that he should have earlier. 

“Jisung.”

Minho was whining now. Begging. Jisung just scoffed, petting digits through the messy brown hair that was drying too slowly in some places, “if I say it will you do something for me?” Minho nodded, head lolling to the side as if he was absolutely fucked out of his mind. 

“I love you, Minho.”

Yeah, Minho was broken. Otherwise he’d never have agreed to this. If Minho wasn’t broken apart by now Jisung would be surprised. Minho couldn’t have been this good of an actor. No way. Minho was broken. He was broken the minute Jisung told him that Hyunjin loved him. The sweet, pure Minho he had obsessed over changed that very second. It didn’t bother Jisung as much as he thought. In the end he won a new fuck toy. And just like with Hyunjin, he’d tire eventually. But for now he would cherish this stupid little cam boy. He’d cherish him for as long as he could before snapping his fucking neck. Jisung was winter. He was ruthless and cold. And he didn’t give a shit if one day he’d block the sun out. Fuck the sun. 

“Any suggestions?” Jisung whispered, tongue gliding along Minhos ear as his eyes glared into the camera, hand tightening around the milky white neck covered in various purple bruises. Minho bit around the cherry gag, eyes staring at the camera with the same lust Jisung had fallen for. 

Chime.

**Author's Note:**

> Twt: minhodipitous  
> Cc: str4y


End file.
